


Maybe I will

by Blackstarsabove



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Eivor likes beautiful things, Injury, Ivarr happens to be a beautiful thing, Ivarr is human too, Kind of a character study, M/M, No Spoilers, i really don't know how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27618599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackstarsabove/pseuds/Blackstarsabove
Summary: Ivarr is injured and Eivor tries to help while poorly managing the feelings he has for the other.
Relationships: Eivor/Ivarr Ragnarsson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 87





	Maybe I will

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first shot with this dynamic so have mercy on me. I'll probably rewrite it some time in the future but for now have this first practice.

A gentle breeze drifted through the streets of Repton, soft and warm, so unlike the harsh and cold winds Eivor was used to from Norway, where he had spent most of his life surrounded by ice and snow.

England was so very different from his home with its lush green forests, its colorful meadows and the impressive ruins from long forgotten times.  
He felt as though he were worlds away from his home and yet when he turned his eyes towards the night sky, he found the same stars, the same sparks rising Muspelheim's fires. And they were shining down on him just as brightly.

Synin was perched on the rooftop next to Eivor, allowing the drengir to pet him gently as they watched the fires lit all over the city, sway gently in the wind, their dance with the shadows on the ground and the walls a sight to behold.  
Eivor had always found beauty in the simplest of things.

With Ceolwulf now on Mercia's throne, peace had settled over the troubled kingdom of Mercia.  
Of course there was always unrest in one place or another but it was nothing he or the sons of Ragnar couldn't handle and really, some fighting did him good.  
At least then, after a day of fighting, he would be able to find some sleep.

Eivor sighed, one of his hands coming to rest on the handle of the broken axe he carried. It wasn't a weapon as much as it was a reminder, a reminder of the friendship he shared with the younger of the Ragnarsson brothers, Ivarr.  
The axe was too damaged to actually fight with, clearly intended as a joke rather than a real gift but Eivor had held onto it and cherished it as much as he cherished the arm ring Ubba had gifted him.  
Though he didn't cherish the axe for what it was, he could appreciate it for who it was from and for what it symbolized.

Ivarr was a man of many contradictions.  
He had a relatively small frame yet his presence was tall enough to compete with the giants from Jotunheim.  
He was solid as stone when he stood, yet when he fought he was like the wind.  
His heart was cold as Niflheim yet the love he felt for his brother was hot like the fires of Muspelheim.  
He was like the sea, unpredictable and fickle but at the same time he was like the flames, destructive and vicious.  
He was the storm in the middle of winter, the lighting breaking through heavy clouds.  
And as much as he wished it wasn't so, Eivor was drawn to the uncertainty, intoxicated by it actually.

Maybe this attraction stemmed from how they were so different and yet so similar.  
They both were bound for Valhalla, that was their ultimate goal.  
But whereas Eivor liked to take time to enjoy the more beautiful things of Midgard, like poetry or nature, Ivarr enjoyed only the fighting and the glory that could come from it.  
Or maybe he had just seen the beauty behind the blood and the scars, behind the madness in the drengir's eyes.

A small commotion by the docks was eventually what took Eivor's attention off the other man and seeing as he would not be able to find sleep because of said man, Eivor decided that he should go and see if he was needed.

When he arrived at the docks, Eivor was greeted by chaos.  
There were raiders, some injured others dead if he had to guess and others scurrying around to treat their wounds and unload their loot from the longboat.  
Amidst the chaos he spotted Ubba, standing tall and sure with the confidence of a true Ragnarsson, but Ivarr was nowhere to be found.  
It was his ship that had returned, from a small raid to keep Ivarr busy now that there were no more hostile Saxons around that he could use for his entertainment.  
So this morning, after Ivarr had once again threatened to kill someone, Ubba had decided to send his brother off to some monastery nearby. At least that way they could utilize Ivar's bloodlust and gain some resources.

And now the ship was back and Ivarr wasn't there and suddenly Eivor felt like he couldn't breathe.  
They all knew that their One Day was inevitable but not final. In time they would all be reunited in Valhalla and there they would all feast and fight alongside one another until the end of time, when Fenrir would break from his chains and rise to swallow the sun.  
But it wasn't Ivarr's One Day yet.  
He wasn't meant to go like this, not in a raid that would be forgotten by history.  
Ivarr was meant to die on a battlefield important enough for legends to be told and songs to be sung about it in all the nine worlds.  
Ivarr the Boneless was destined to be greater than even his father, Eivor was sure of it.

And before he knew it, Eivor found himself at Ivarr's doorstep, not even bothering to knock as fear seized his heart once more, cold claws digging into his heart.

And then there he was, lying on his bed and looking at Eivor as though he had gone mad, well maybe he had but that didn't matter because Ivarr was here and he could breathe again.  
The older man looked as he always did, strong, proud, respectable and if it weren't for the hand clutched tightly to his chest, Eivor would have probably never noticed that he was injured in the low light.  
Ivarr was a warrior, he knew pain and he could endure but Eivor was perceptive. He could smell the blood in the air, could hear the small change in the other's breathing.

"What do you want, wolf-kissed?"

In hindsight Eivor was surprised that Ivarr didn't use his axe to gut him when instead of answering,he pulled him up from the bed and took off his armor and tunic for better access to the wound.  
Ivarr had just let him with a smirk on his thin lips to remind him that even if he had chosen to let Eivor do as he pleased this time, it was still him who had ultimately made the choice.

The gashes on Ivarr's torso were long and deep and Eivor found himself flinching at the thought of just how much pain they had to bring the other.  
Ivarr seemed to notice that and sneered, trying to push Eivor away but he was exhausted from raiding and weakened by blood loss and so he couldn't, which appeared to make him angry.  
He pushed at Eivor harder and in turn Eivor held him more tightly.  
It was foolish but he was willing to endure any punishment in that very moment as long as the other lived.

Their little scuffle went on until Ivarr had exhausted his strength and was leaning against the slightly taller man.  
"If you wanted to fuck me you could've just said so. "  
It was a last attempt to save face but it came out shaky, tired.  
"Maybe I will. Once you're not bleeding out anymore", Eivor replied, pushing the other down on the bed, much more roughly than he would have liked, but just hard enough to keep Ivarr from thinking he was pitying him.  
He needed the other to understand thst he would never doubt his strength.

The youngest Ragnarsson let him wrap his wounds after that, his eyelids starting to grow heavy with all the adrenaline gone from his system.  
Eivor was about to walk away when he was done and leave him to get some rest when Ivarr scooted over slightly, making room on the bed.

Eivor would have been a fool not to take an invitation like that.  
So he settled behind Ivarr underneath the furs, watching his tattooed back rise and fall with each breath he took.  
"The stars were beautiful tonight", he mumbled, surprising Eivor enough to make him hesitate for a while before he answered.  
"Not as beautiful as they were in Norway, where you can see the bridge of the gods. The greens and blues and purples it is a sight that will forever stay within your heart."  
"You'll have to show me some day, poet", Ivarr mumbled, moving the slightest bit closer to Eivor before he drifted off.  
"Maybe I will", Eivor mumbled once he was sure the other was asleep.  
Gently, he ran a hand through Ivarr's dark hair, even going as far as to place a kiss on his temple as he asked Nioron to guide him through her realm safely and show him all the wonderful things that existed.


End file.
